It was the start of December in 1899, you were only a kid in an infamous gang full of murderers, thieves, con-artists and yet you considered them your family. As the snow continued to fall, you began to write something very important.

Your innocent mind was writing a letter to Santa who you were keen to make sure he gets you the right presents this year. However, you soon stopped writing as you heard a voice, your father’s.

“Ah, a letter for Santa I’m guessing?” Dutch assumed with a grin.